Thurian - Pacific Rim
by Kkakamaroosh77
Summary: Small changes is circumstances alter the story hugely. The last stand is made in San Francisco, not Hong Kong. This story follows Eloise (OC), a young Australian cadet with one goal: become a pilot, kill the kaiju. End of story.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

I have heard about the monsters. I have seen them on the news. Some people say they are Demons. Some say they are gods. Most know that they are aliens. There's evidence. A portal; the Breech opened up in the fabric of space, or more likely, was blown open, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. One year after it opened, when the scientists weren't as frantic as before, the first monster came through. They called it a kaiju.

Now is four years after that, and I'm looking at one. Like a cross between a dinosaur, a fish and an elephant. Only, this dinosaur-fish-elephant towers more than a hundred meters above me. The streets of my city, Melbourne, are filled with screams and roars and the infinite destruction of skyscrapers, made look small by this enormous thing.

All anyone can do is run. So they do. They stumble and crawl and swarm over cars and other people like ants over rocks. Everyone is running in a straight line down the wide street. I yell for my best friend, Lizzy, who was with me before the sirens rang. I won't find her. How could I possibly find her in this? So I run, but I still shout her name.

But everyone is running in the wrong direction. The kaiju will take the path of least resistance. That is the way that the crowd's headed. But they will never out run it.

'Stop! Get out of the street! Hey!' I scream, but nobody hears me. Or at least, they don't care. I'm lucky. Fear makes me see clearly, but with these people it's just clouding their judgement. I keep screaming, until my voice is no more than a croak. I can't do anything more to help.

I dive off into an alleyway perpendicular to the street, hoping that Lizzy is doing the same. I run again through these streets and lanes that I know so well, now almost completely devoid of people who are escaping in the wrong direction.

When my breath starts to leave me, I spot a rusted fire escape, with a gum tree beside it. I climb the tree and then the fire escape. The roof is high enough for me to see the kaiju.

Fighter jets and helicopters swarm around it. They launch missiles, bullets, grenades. Most of the projectiles are heading into the things abdomen. But I can see that is strategy isn't working. The kaiju is armoured. I don't know if they can see this from up close. Heavy grey skin covers the whole creature, but the plates can be seen moving underneath.

I chew nervously on my knuckle. They're doing it wrong; they can't keep going like this. They'll use everything they have before the kaiju dies. Meanwhile, buildings are destroyed and aircraft are plucked from the sky, before being thrown to the ground. It's been twenty minutes since I first heard the noises. I wonder how many people have died in that time.

The sound of a helicopter comes from above me. It's damaged, fuel or oil spewing out the side of a hole in the body. Some splatters on my face, and I hastily wipe it off. They're landing on the helipad behind me, and my long brown hair whips around my face.

When it touches the ground, or should I say, roof, eight men and three women stream out of the door. They look at me for a moment, but I doubt that they're surprised. After they yell at each other for a moment before a really young looking soldier comes over to me.

'Are you alright?' he asks.

I nod. 'Yeah I'm fine' I point to the kaiju. 'They need to aim for the eyes. There are plates of armour under its skin and so long as they're shooting at it like that nothing is going to happen. Look at it.' I say. The young soldier stares at it for a moment when a terrible realization widens his eyes.

'Lieutenant!' he yells running over to the group. He tells them what I told him. I look back to the kaiju. It keeps moving forward down the street. Now I can see it grabbing handfuls of people its arms, crushing them, and tossing them behind itself. Its second set of arms swats aircraft away like they were flies.

From the group of panicky soldiers a middle aged looking woman suddenly appears beside me.

'I've just sent the message out.' She says. I see the swarm of aircraft Shift upward and their fire move towards its head. Its eyes. The thing stops roaring and starts screaming. It stops moving forward. It's not dead yet, but it's immediately looking a lot worse for wear.

'My name is Lieutenant Billie Coleman.' She says.

'Eloise Carroll.' I say. We shake hands, but my eyes don't leave the kaiju.

The monster suddenly stumbles and falls. Its head is gushing with blue blood and its eyes are pulp. It's dead. But a minute later a plume of its foul blood rises into the sky, and the sounds of destruction cease. The shockwave hits us with a rank smell and cloud of dust. Now all there is to see is the path of ruin it's carved through my home.

'There's never been kaiju with armour like that before, has there?' I ask.

'No. At least not that I've heard of.' She says. 'If it weren't for you we wouldn't have stopped it.'

'You would have noticed it eventually.' I say, deflecting her complement with ease. Lieutenant Coleman smiles sadly.

'And while we were figuring that out a thousand more people would be dead.' A thousand more. How many thousands are already dead? My family are away in Sydney, so they're fine. But what about Lizzy? I shake my head. I can't think about that, not now.

'I did what anybody would have done.' I say. Lieutenant Coleman does that sad smile again and looks over to a neighbouring rooftop.

'Really?' she says. 'Look over there.' She points across to an overweight man bent over his camera phone. He's watching back what he had filmed before. I scan over the skyline and see half a dozen others doing the same thing.

'Jesus Christ.' I say.

'You'd think they wouldn't be thinking about how they should film it and more about how so many people are now-' she says. Her voice is bitter. 'Sorry. I shouldn't say that. Not yet. If only we'd had a Jaeger.'

Jaeger. A massive robot that looks like something out of The Transformers, built to kill the kaiju. Two pilots control it, connecting the robot to their brains to control it. The machine is so big that the neural load with the interface of the Jaeger is too much for one pilot to cope with. The pilots are as legendary as the jaegers. They are the only real way to kill the kaiju before so much damage is done. Australia only ever had one, and it's not here. We've never been attacked before. We thought we were safe.

We stare across the scene of devastation for a minute. I can sense the rest of the helicopter's crew standing behind us, doing the same. The young soldier from before steps up to my side.

'How old are you?' he asks.

'Fourteen.'

He lets his breath out in a disbelieving whistle. 'Well, prepare for your face on the news kid, because I'm putting it up there.'

'But I don't want-'

'It's not a matter of want anymore. You saved lives. More than we could have alone.'

I sigh and turn. I climb down the fire escape and the gum tree, and walk back towards the main street. They shout after me; tell me to come back. But those bodies aren't going to clear themselves.


	2. Chapter 2

I sling my duffle bag over my shoulder. The cargo plane trip to the San Francisco base was long, and I didn't exactly sleep, although two others did. I suppose it wasn't their first long haul flight. Though I can't imagine ever being able to fall asleep to that racket. It was a group of fourteen Australians. We're all being shipped over to international bases as soon as we're able to contribute to the cause.

At nineteen I'm the youngest person ever to graduate as a Jaeger pilot. Lizzy graduated with me, but she's a few months older. What was that they said about pilots? The stronger the bond, the easier it is for the minds to connect, with the Jaeger and each other. I can't think of anyone I love more than Lizzy. Well, my family, but they're dead now. No prizes to guess what killed them.

It was amazing to have found each other alive again. But our joy was brief. I was swept up into the world's media for a month. So many people asked for interviews. No. No no no no no. They gave me a medal for bravery. I got young Australian of the year. Then they forgot. They picked up on me again when my family was killed by a kaiju in Hobart, but nobody asked for an interview then. Nobody cared very much about it. Just another four people dead, in an ever rising death toll. Since then the world has truly fallen to ruin.

When we land Lizzy and I stumble out of the aircraft. I run a hand through my short hair, and look at the bleak airfield that surrounds me. My legs are jelly and I have been awake for nearly forty eight hours. We're both dead on our feet. But before they let us retreat to our rooms, we have to report to the command level. God knows why that can't wait until after we've had a nap.

Lizzy's blond curls blow into my face as we trudge across the airfield and into the base. Outside it's all concrete and puddles and grey. It's pretty much the same inside. A man covered in black grease and holding a spanner in his left hand leads us up stairs, along corridors and through doors. After a while points at the first glass door I've seen in this place, and leaves, without so much as a, 'toodle loo. Command is that way. Good luck.'

I throw Lizzy a sideways glance and she pulls a very serious face. Despite our fatigue, we laugh at each other, and walk through the door.

The room is filled with old glass screens and some holograms. Sometimes I recognise a program that I saw in training, but not very often. This I not where I belong. There is so much stuff in the room and so much important looking activity. I'm lost in here. I look to Lizzy again. She doesn't have any more idea of what's going on than I do. So we stand awkwardly by the door, waiting for someone to tell us what the hell we are supposed to be doing.

Suddenly I see a familiar face in the chaos, and she sees me. Lieutenant Coleman walks over to the pair of us. Her hair has begun to grey, and her face has a few more lines in it, but her bright eyes make it seem like nothing could ever age her.

'The lieutenant is still alive.' I say disbelievingly. She laughs.

'Captain now. And here you will be expected to treat me as such.'

I straighten up. 'Apologies, Captain. '

'No worries. God, I can't believe what you've done! Youngest ever. We all knew that you'd amount to something, that day on the roof. And your score was above average I hear?'

'Ninety eight percent.' I say. Turns out I had a real knack for holding my own in a fight, along with overall strategy. Lizzy got ninety four percent; a score only dampened her backtalk to an officer. The officer was a dickhead, though. He deserved it.

'Bloody brilliant.' she says. Then she turns to Lizzy, acknowledging her for the first time. 'I'm Captain Billie Coleman. Second in command on this base to General Mathews. Sorry, I haven't seen Eloise in five years, other than the news. You are?'

'I'm Li-, I mean, Elizabeth. Elizabeth Stohl. We're partners, in case you somehow didn't guess that.' She says. Not all cadets arrive at the base with partners, but those of us who do have an advantage, and I wouldn't pilot with anybody else. I wince slightly. I know Captain Coleman won't reprimand her for it, but that answer was ever so slightly disrespectful. I'll rein her in later.

'And your score?'

'Ninety four percent, Captain. I got a reprimand from an officer. If it hadn't been for that I would have the same score as her.' She says, nodding her head at me. Captain Coleman smiles. She finds Lizzy's attitude entertaining. Lizzy smiles back, as if part of some inside joke. _Well it's good to see them both making friends._

'Well, I'll take you to the general to get a quick brief and the keys to your rooms. Follow me.' She waves us after her and we follow through the dauntingly purposeful room. Soon we come to the front of the room where the general stands. He wears his coat and trousers, but his coat is unbuttoned and his hair messy. I like the look of him.

Captain Coleman introduces Lizzy and I as the youngest graduated pilots the world has ever seen. The General looks at us like I imagine he would any other new recruits. Not with the usual awe and amazement that Lizzy and I often get. It's kind of nice really.

'Impressive feat, completing the course in two years, cadets. I hope it doesn't mean you missed anything too important. I have found that scores aren't everything when you go up in a real Jaeger, against a real kaiju. Never the less, good luck to you both.  
'Now, over the next week you will be training against the other cadets so we can see who would be best to pilot our class five Jaeger. Also we're looking for someone to pilot our class three with a pilot who we've already selected. There are three places available and twenty nine cadets. You will receive details of the times on the digital dairies in your rooms.'

He hands us each a key on a leather thong.

'You're next door neighbors. Now, get out of here, and for god's sake take a nap before dinner. There's a pile of maps on the table by the door. Is everything understood?'

'Yes sir.' We say in unison. He nods at us, and we are dismissed.

Lizzie has excellent map reading skills, so as far as it is to our rooms, it takes a comparably shot time to get there. Outside our rooms we jump up and down in each other's arms for a while, laughing and full of giddy, girly excitement that we're finally here. We get some weird looks from passersby, but Lizzy blows raspberries at them, to reassure them that we're high functioning young adults. Then we disappear into our rooms.

The room is small. There's a bed, some storage space. Two rusty pipes run down the wall by the bed. Sunk into the wall next to the door is a small touch screen, which is the electronic diary. I set an alarm on it to wake me before dinner, before collapsing onto the bed. I don't even think to take my heavy boots off before I'm fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The alarm wakes me, and I reluctantly get up to wake Lizzy. We both look hilariously dishevelled, and I know that I am still very, very tired. As the corridor fills with people we sit on the steps to Lizzy's room, each with a hairbrush in hand hacking away at Lizzy's hair. We're still there when the stream of people begins to thin.

From the door opposite us a guy with fair hair steps out and starts up the corridor. I guess that he's in his early twenties. He's gorgeous, but a bit of a mess. He looks as exhausted as I feel, his hair is all over the place, and his pilots shirt (black, with two gold bars on the shoulder), is crumpled. I feel Lizzie dig an elbow into my ribs.

'Dibs on the Blondie.' She says, and I laugh. The guy glances at us for a second, before walking off. I throw my hairbrush into her room. She does the same with hers and we start walking up the corridor in the same direction everyone else.

'I thought you were saving yourself for your boyfriend.' I say.

'Pah, you know I don't care about him. He was just hot, fun, and a good kisser.'

'Good at anything else?' I ask, knowing the answer.

'Shut up.' She says, and elbows me again. Lizzy is very different from me like that. She's had heaps of boyfriends, reeling them in annually using her good looks and charm. Her long, wild blond hair, tall thin frame and exotic amber eyes made it easy for her. She has a waist and boobs and the sort of figure models dream of having. She's the pretty one of the two of us.

Me? I'm medium height, with pale skin. It would turn honey coloured in the summer, but going to the beach is not an option anymore. I have eyes that are a green and gold hazel. I cut my dark brown hair short, because it's practical. With my lack of curves and frame that I would otherwise describe as lean, I look kind of boyish. That's okay though. Flirting tires me.

'Whatever. Just remember that dallying with the opposite sex isn't exactly encouraged here.' I say. 'So, did you look at the map or something?' I ask, changing the subject to something that actually matters at the moment. I am very hungry.

'Nope, I'm just following the crowd.' She says. I shrug. Lizzy's usually right in situations like these.

The dining hall is massive. It's filled with people from every profession on the base. Engineers, pilots, cadets, officers, air traffic controllers, medics, scientists, soldiers, and a million and six others that I can't name. And this must only be the meal for the day shift. There are long metal tables that I imagine are meant to seat twelve, but about sixteen are crammed onto each. So many people in one room.

There are two cafeteria lines that people are moving along, sloping food onto metal dinner trays. I click my fingers in front of Lizzy's nose to get her attention, and drag her towards the line where I see most people. I assume the other one is for officers or higher ranking people; otherwise it would have a longer line.

Once we have lined up and served ourselves an assortment of sloppy stuff, we look over the tables.

'Look, that one's empty.' Lizzy says, pointing to the far corner. Her hope is my suspicion.

'There must be a pretty good reason no one's sitting there Lizzy.' I say. I spot a table filled with cadets. I know this because they are all aged in their early twenties, and are wearing their navy blue shirts with sleeves rolled up and hems untucked. 'There.' I say, pointing to the table. Lizzy nods and we squeeze onto the end of a bench.

We get a few weird looks from the other cadets, but that's because we don't fit the criteria. We're too young. After a while of ignoring us, one of the younger guys on the table pipes up.

'Why aren't you sitting on the table over there?' he asks in a sugar sweet voice. He has an American accent. I let Lizzy handle this one.

'Why aren't you?' she asks, with equal innocence.

The guy smiles. 'Touché. Why are you sitting here then?'

'You're all cadets, right?'

'Yes.' He says. Lizzy raises her eyebrows and inclines her head, encouraging him to use his brain. I see the very moment when he figures it out. 'Oh. Oh! It's you! We were told you'd be coming to the base this month.'

Lizzy holds out her hand. 'I'm Lizzy.'

The guy shakes her hand. 'Elizabeth Stohl, I know. I'm Dean. Congratulations.' He says. Oh, brilliant, they already know who we are. I cringe to myself. The other cadets at the table have now taken an interest in Lizzy. Especially the male ones. They are in awe, as per usual. I keep my head down in the hope that they won't notice me, eating my mush with intention. No such luck.

'And that means that you're Eloise Carroll.' Dean says, offering his hand. I finish my mouthful and shake it.

'Hi.' I say.

'So you're the youngest ever? And you saved Melbourne when you were fourteen.' He says, and shakes his head disbelievingly. The occupants of the table are now all staring at me and whispering to each other, along with some of the other tables. I can see that Rumours about Lizzy and I have been circulating for a while. Nobody knew how old I was in Australia; they all forgot about me ages ago.

I wince when he says _saved Melbourne_. I didn't. Melbourne was beyond saving. The damage had already been done.

'Seven thousand people died. A million were wounded. Melbourne wasn't saved.' I say. Dean looks disappointed at my reaction. _Boo hoo_.

'But, you noticed the armour. That was the first category two kaiju ever.' Says a man at the other end of the table. I don't feel like responding. Luck was the only reason I spotted the armour that day. And someone on Captain Coleman's crew would have noticed. I didn't come here to be reminded of everything I had already lost. I shove some mash potato into my mouth.

'Ignore her. She's hostile, modest and very good at lots of things. It's an annoying combination.' Lizzy says, lying but saving me from having to join the conversation. I look and see lots of people at surrounding tables have completely turned their bodies towards me to get a better look. One by one I glare at them. _What are you looking at?_ They turn away, embarrassed.

I look over and do the same thing to the rest of the people staring. They turn away at lightning speed. _Subtle._ Except for one. At a considerably less crowded table of what I assume to be Jaeger pilots is the guy from across the hall. He was watching me too. But when I glare at him he doesn't snap his gaze away. He turns slowly back to his food.

I shove potato in my mouth again. Then, I leave the table, dump my tray on a table by the kitchen door and get the hell out of there.

I am not here to talk about my past.

I am not here to be marvelled at.

I am not here to be nice.

I am here to pilot a class five Jaeger with my partner, and kill those son-of-a-bitch kaiju.


	4. Chapter 4

It was twelve hours of sleeping for Lizzy and I before now. We're about to go to our first training session, where we'll be assessed and compared with the other cadets.

I feel good. Awake, alert, strong. I'll need those things today. Lizzy and I will be fighting with other partners in kendo or hand to hand combat. We'll also be sparring with each other. The more we match each other's skill and the deeper the bond, the more compatible we are when piloting a Jaeger. It makes Drifting easier. Drifting is what the neural connection is called. When you enter the Drift, you see each other's memories. After that, you attack the same way; fight and think as one. Pilots spend a lot of time in each other's heads.

Some partners pretend that they have equal skill, but you can see it when they do. And it's not getting them any brownie points from the assessors.

I have a light lunch. I don't want anyone to hit me in the stomach and force my food back out into the open, partially digested. When we get to the correct room we join the line behind an Asian looking woman with awesome acid green sections in her hair. The line has all forty cadets in it, and blocks my view of the ring. But I can hear the clacking of staffs that I now associate with kendo.

'Um hi.' I say to the woman in front of me. 'It's our first training session and I was wondering if you could tell us what we're doing.'

'Kendo. Right now you're going up against other cadets. Fight the one that's in the ring. First to four points wins. If you win, you stay in the ring. If you lose, you go to the back of the line.' She explains, before turning back around. She's not being very hospitable. Fair enough. We can all make friends in the hallways and dining hall, but the ring is where you have no friends and no sympathy.

The line slowly moves forward and I see a cadet send people to the back of the line one by one. The score is always four nil. He has inky black hair that is plastered to his forehead with sweat.

'I changed my mind.' Says Lizzy. 'Dibs on that one.' She inclines her head toward the man. He sends another cadet to the back of the line.

'If you insist.' I say. 'But look at his face; don't you think he looks kinda...bloodthirsty?' I do. Every time he scores he licks his lips, and occasionally when he hits his opponent (which is banned, so it might be an accident, but I don't think it is.) he sort of grins. Or is it a grimace? I can't tell. This guy has what Lizzy might call, _bad vibes_, or, _some creepy voodoo about him_.

'Meh.' She says, which translates to _yes, you're probably right_ in Lizzy language.

Sooner than I realise I'm watching the Asian woman being pummelled by the cadet. Before every fight they call the names of the opponents, and I lean that the Asian woman is called Koemi, and the unhinged looking cadet is Silvan. I can tell that Koemi is an excellent fighter, but she's letting herself be intimidated, and goes down four nil, just like the rest.

Then it's my turn. Lizzy pats my back for luck. I step into the ring; where the floor is dropped by two steps; and pick up the red staff. Opposite the line are three officials. Captain Coleman and two others: one on her left, and one on her right. The official on Coleman's left asks for our names. Silvan speaks first.

'Silvan Bergfalk.' He says.

'Eloise Carroll.' I say. The line may be behind me, but I can practically see the cadets leaning and stretching to get a better view. Captain Coleman looks concerned, but when she meets my eye she composes herself. I take three deep breaths and focus. I raise my staff.

Silvan waves his staff around for a while, probably to intimidate me. I hold his gaze and grip my staff firm. He will attack first, and I will be ready.

He attacks. It's a bombardment of accurate and incredibly fast jabs and sweeps. I evade, block, deflect, but I need to hold off from attacking for a moment, find patterns in his assault. There! He brings his staff down towards my head, and tries to score there twice more. Then he catapults the staff at my left side. I evade and back off for a moment, and we circle one another. I smile to myself. I now have an inkling of his strategy. Damn, I was made to do this.

I launch an attack of my own, matching his speed and accuracy, but not revealing any of my own. Jab, jab, deflect, sweep, block, sweep, sweep, sweep. Hooks my leg with his staff and I fall to the ground. He licks his lips. He thinks he's got me covered. _Thinks._

I now reveal how fast I really am. I roll up onto one knee and stop my staff half an inch away from his neck.

'One nil to Carroll.' Says Captain Coleman. I feel a restraining tension that I didn't realize was there leave my body. I stand up and raise my staff. He attacks first.

The onslaught is faster this time. It seems that he was holding back before too. But I can keep up. It's a medley of give and take, back and forth. I attack, he counters, and then I counter his counter. We're both so precise it feels like a dance. With every failed attack Silvan's face grows more contorted.

A splinter from the old floor drives itself into my foot. It hurts a lot, and for a millisecond I loose my focus. It's long enough. Silvan swings his staff and stops an inch from my nose.

'One all.' Says the Captain. I put up my hand and take a moment to pull the splinter out of my foot. It's about three centimetres long, and went deep enough that at one end there is a spot of blood. I'm pretty sure there are still some little bits of wood in my foot, but that can wait until later.

'Do you want to continue?' asks Captain Coleman. In answer I put my foot back on the ground and raise my staff. Silvan glares at me. I smile. Nothing pisses off your enemies more than being nice to them.

He swings his staff down to my head and we start dancing again. After forty seconds I twist his staff out of his hand and score at his ribcage. Two one. He scores. Two all. I move faster than I've ever moved before. So fast it seems impossible, and I score. Three two.

His face changes. His rage turns to calm resolve. My heart beats faster. This time he doesn't attack straight away. He circles for a while. Then, instead of launching an attack designed to score, he starts trying to figure me out. He hits at my side to see what I do. I evade, not letting myself do what I would if I was really in danger. Besides, I have the advantage, and he knows it.

Final he starts to really attack. He hasn't learnt as much as he would have liked to. We move faster and faster and faster again. The staffs whistle as they cut through the air and crack against each other with deafening noise.

Silvan cheats. He sweeps my foot out from under me using his own, and I fall to the floor. I try to roll out, but he's stepping on my ankle, and I can't. He attacks again and again, and all I can do is block. I feel his foot come off my ankle, and his staff crashes down on top of my head. I feel pain. It all goes black.


	5. Chapter 5

I come to. I'm still in the ring, but there is now a circle of people around me. Lizzy has lost her cool demeanour and is slapping my chin. Everything's foggy around the edges though, and it sounds sort of like I'm wearing earmuffs. And my head really hurts. Warmth flows out of my hair and down my face. I swallow the lump in my throat when I realize what it is.

I raise a hand and blink a couple of times.

'I'm alright, I'm fine.' I say, pushing myself into a sitting position, then standing, leaning heavily on Lizzy.

'Are you sure?' someone asks. It's Dean.

'Yeah I'm-' I start, but my legs fail me, and poor Dean has to hold me up by my armpits. I gasp and inhale some of the blood that's run down may face. Oh god. I cough, spraying Lizzy with blood and saliva.

'Just move her!' someone snaps, and I'm dragged across the room and deposited in a chair. Someone presses a towel to where the skin has split just behind my hairline. I grab it off them and wipe my face with it, then hold where it was before. Lizzie wipes my face again with what I assume is damp toilet paper. I'm not really a squeamish person, but the overwhelming smell of blood is nauseating.

Lizzie waves her hand in front of my face. 'Where are you?' she asks. 'What's your name? Are you an alien?'

I laugh at her. 'I'm in the San Fran kaiju defence base, my name is Eloise Felicity Richardson, and as far as I know, I am not an alien.' I say. I never wake up disoriented, or think I'm awake when I'm dreaming. Lizzy looks very relieved. I lean around her head and analyse the scene around me.

Silvan is being walked out of the room by the two officers. People in the line have dispersed. Captain Coleman is yelling for order. People have already started to mop up the trail of blood I've left. Captain Coleman glances at me, and walks over.

'Can you take her to the infirmary?' she asks Lizzy.

Lizzy bites her lip. 'Sorry, I don't know where it is yet.'

The captain nods, and turns to Dean, who's hovering next to Lizzy. 'You know where it is?'

'Yes ma'am.'

'Good. Keep a hand on her the whole way.' She starts, 'make sure you catch her if she faints or anything.'

'I'm fine!' I insist. The captain looks at me sceptically.

'I'm sure you are, Carroll.'

And with that I'm dragged off by Lizzy and Dean to the infirmary. It's not a very long walk. Inside the medic cleans my cut and asks me a series of obvious questions to see if I had a bad concussion, and I dig the remaining splinters out of my foot. The nurse reassures me by saying that head wounds bleed a lot while she's stitching up my head. After the nurse leaves Lizzy lectures me on how good looks can be deceiving. I very nearly slap her.

'Ok enough!' I say when her yapping becomes too much. I turn to Dean. 'Who the hell is Psycho-Silvan?' I growl. Judging by the way Lizzy and I were greeted at dinner the other night, this is a gossipy place.

'Oh, Silvan? Nobody knows much. Only that he's seriously good in training.' Dean says. 'Whenever he gets a really good fighter as an opponent, he hits them. Not hard or anything. It's like he's reminding them not to challenge him or something.'

I nod. 'Every time I scored he got all... angry. But he didn't hit me before this.' I say, pointing to my head.

'Yes he did.' Says Lizzy. Her brow furrows. 'Right after you scored for the first time.'

Now I'm confused. 'But I didn't feel anything. And if he had hit me, he would have scored.' I protest.

'No, he hit you in the thigh. You seriously didn't notice?' asks Lizzy. She looks to Dean for confirmation, who nods his head hastily. I wonder why he's still here.

I shake my head. 'Nope.' I run my hands along the top of my legs and wince when I press into the middle of my left thigh. 'Although, now that you mention it...' I trail off. Lizzy lets her breath out in a huff and pops her lips.

'Okay, enough about being hit.' I say, and turn to Dean. 'So Silvan's the best?'

Dean shrugs. 'Basically. Although, you gave him a good run for his money. '

Something I probably won't be doing again too soon. I can only imagine how officers and Captain Coleman are going to punish him for this.

'When does training end?' I ask. Lizzy looks at me disbelievingly.

'You're not serious.'

'I'm always serious.' I say.

'In an hour.' Dean says. Lizzy gives him a death stare. Dean opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything. He looks like a fish.

'But your head! Ellie, Look at it!' Lizzy insists, prodding the bandage encircling my cranium. 'You can't go back! Tell her, Dean.'

Dean put his hands up. 'I- I don't think... Lizzy's right, Eloise. You can't go back,' he nods. Probably to restore confidence in himself, more than anything else.

The nurse pokes her grey head around a curtain toward the back of the room.

'You guys should clear out before you catch something nasty.' She says with the sort of tone that you don't argue with if you have half a brain.

'You are crazy.' Lizzy says.

I stand up and start towards the door. 'Maybe.' Which means, _yes,_ _you're probably right_, in Eloise language.


	6. Chapter 6

The table giggles, Dean laughs, and Lizzy just shrieks hysterically, pointing at me. I bite my lip and determinedly shove beans into my mouth, feeling my cheeks grow red.

'Her face!' Lizzy squeals, a noise which drives half of the table into uncontrollable laughter. She's spent the last twenty minutes dragging the incredibly squashed table, and the ring of younger staff standing around it, into a heavily embellished recount of what happened after I stepped back into the training room.

How the Captain looked at Lizzy, Dean, and moreover, me when we reached the front of the line. How she sat me in the corner where I watched Lizzy flop her way through the line of cadets, only stopping to laugh at me. A few minutes ago she compared me to a dejected puppy with a bandage on my head instead of a cone around my neck. And how the last cadet to spar for the session had an incredible phobia of moths, and when he noticed one spiraling its way towards him fainted right into my lap. He left the table some time ago.

When I finally swallow my mouthful I look up and say to Lizzy, but indirectly to the whole table, 'Alright, we've been over this three times now, I think I know the story pretty well.' I stand up with my tray. 'Goodnight everyone.' I announce.

I'm answered with varying sounds of protest and Lizzy's: 'Okay, okay, I'm sorry!' she grabs hold of one of my belt loops and pulls down, so I have the choice of either sitting, or standing and displaying my undies to twenty nine cadets and an assortment of other people all surrounding the table. I sit, and she picks up where she left off.

'And the way you just chucked him off your lap!' She says to me, throwing an arm around my shoulders while the other bangs down on the table.

I lean in and whisper to her, 'Shall I tell them about your _initial opinions_ on Silvan?' she stiffens and the way her face falls provokes an inflammatory _ooh_ out of the otherwise indecipherable racket. Nobody can hear us, but they sure as hell want to.

'You wouldn't.' She digs her fingers nails into my shoulder.

'Well, you have been making fun of me for, oh, the last half hour? It would only be fair.' Her fingernails sink deeper. Despite the pain, I smile to myself; I've one this round. I usually do, but still, it's nice. I stand up again.

As I'm dumping my tray by the kitchen door the blondie from across the hall scrapes something into the bin; the one who wasn't embarrassed when I caught him staring at me. _Him!?_ I nip the inside of my cheek to stop my face from doing anything stupid. My eyes move up his arm, which while veiled in fabric is still looking very clean cut, to his lovely face. He clears his throat when he sees me looking. My eyes shoot away.

'Sorry.'

'Don't worry about it.' He says lightly with an American accent. He scrapes his tray for a bit longer than necessary. I'm about to leave when he speaks. 'They're not very nice to you, are they.' He says.

'I'm not very nice to them.' I say neutrally, feeling my blood hammering through my chest. 'We haven't met. You are?'

'Becket. Raleigh Becket.' He says. I don't bother introducing myself. Instead I notice his eyes. They're an incredibly clear and bright blue; eyes that keep no secrets and have no past. I don't trust them.

'What class do you pilot?' I ask, making small talk.

'Three.'

Ah ha. He must be the one who needs a partner. Which means his original partner is not in active service, or dead. Probably dead. Poor guy.

'Were you piloting the Jaeger in the category three attack here last month?' I ask. It was a botched job. The kaiju trampled up way to close to the coast, where it usually would have been killed almost as soon as it had left the rift. The Jaeger was damaged severely. Maybe that's where he lost his partner.

'That was two months ago.' He says. I'm not surprised. The time it takes for news to travel is extremely inconsistent these days. 'And no.'

We stand in silence for an awkward moment. Then Becket asks, 'why do you put up with it?' I assume he means the teasing.

I brush my hands off on my jeans. 'Why do you care?'

'Because I don't think that you should let them treat you like that. Especially your friend.' He states. I feel my brow sink and my chest tighten. I usually don't get angry this easily. Well, usually people I've never met stay the hell out of my business.

'I let them because they're happy. I let them because here, that's not an easy feat. And as for Lizzy, she hasn't gotten away with anything.'

'If you're sure.' He says, brushing me off. I snap.

'I am sure. Now I know nothing about you, Raleigh, and despite what you may think, you don't know shit about me either.'

'So you're letting them be happy while you sit being the butt of their joke.' He says.

'Again, what I do doesn't concern you. Goodbye.' I say, before turning to walk off.

'You're wrong.' Becket yells after me. I don't acknowledge him, just keep walking. 'You are way too nice to them.'


	7. Chapter 7

My e-diary this morning told me that for today's training cadets were to meet at the dock. I was so anxious to get there that I mismatched my socks, failed to button my shirt evenly twice, and took about five minutes to lace-up my boots. Basically it took me about three times longer than it normally would for me to get myself dressed. When I used to dress the twins in the morning it would take me this long. The fact the Beckets face keeps on interrupting my already scrambles thoughts isn't exactly helping either.

When I finally do step out of the door, Lizzy is sitting on the steps cleaning her long nails. Last night once we were back in her room together I told her exactly what I thought of her casually teasing me. Talking though feelings isn't something Lizzy and I do often, or very well. There was a bit of yelling involved, but it didn't take too long for her to apologise for being a twat. We sat and laughed about the poor guy with a moth phobia after that.

'What took you so long?' She asks, probably just as excited as me but a lot more cool about it.

'The buttons were not co-operating.' I say, and pull her up, before pushing her out to walk in front of me. 'Which way?

'Down to basement four, a few turns up on the catwalk then we have to walk down about 10 flights of stairs to the viewing levels.'

'Why wouldn't they just have the elevator go the whole way?'

'I think it has something to do with conserving electricity. The floors are so far apart the lifts only go up.'

'Well at least we don't have to walk back up ten flights of stairs.' I deliberate.

'The flights are double the size you're used to, so more like 20.' Lizzy informs me. Well, this'll be fun.

We walk for a ridiculously long time through the mouldy concrete hallways before finally reaching the right bank of lifts. Lizzy and I get in with Koemi, Dean and one other guy. It is one of the few personnel lifts on the base, and back when it was made (probably over thirty years ago, being in the old part of the complex) I imagine it would have been designed for about three people.

Dean, Lizzy and the other guy, who I soon find out is called Andrew and has the cutest London accent, chat about meeting our Jaeger and openly flirt with each other. This is really awkward for me, considering I'm not at all confident is these situations and have my back squashed up against adorable Andrew's notably muscular shoulder. Koemi sees my discomfort.

'Have you ever seen a Jaeger up close before?' She asks, falling into a lean on the stained silver lift doors.

'Never. I mean, I've seen plenty from a distance or being shipped in and out, but never up close.' I answer. It's true, I've never seen a Jaeger up close before. I've been in various simulators and seen models of all the relevant parts of the craft, but never gotten to know a real one. Training pilots used to work on and examine real Jaegers, but that was back when we had the war under control. Nowadays they're far too precious to be incapacitated for the sake of a few cadets, the majority of whom will never be a pilot.

'What about you?' I ask. 'Ever gotten to see one?'

'Only once.' She says distantly. 'Our Jaeger was damaged and while it was being repaired they took all of us there for a closer look. It was amazing.'

'I bet it would be. Where are you from?'

'Japan. Our Jaeger's a class four. Well, was a class four.' She says. At that moment the lift door opens and we step out into a low ceilinged, dark, and incredibly busy area.

'That's a shame, those really are beautiful machines.' I say. Koemi nods sadly. I turn to Lizzy. 'So?'

'This way.' She says, and strides off. We follow her as she weaves her way through all the human traffic. The boys are right behind her, but Koemi and I are less desperate to tread on her heels. Our steps and the steps of everyone else up here clatter on the grate walkway, creating an absolute uproar.

'Look down!' Andrew shouts back at us in his cute accent. When I do, instead of seeing black beneath the grate, light shines up, illuminating the top of a Jaeger. My chest tightens with excitement. It's a second class, not ours, but if it's here, the rest must be close. I crack my knuckles to release some of the nervous tension. I don't want to, but I look up again almost immediately to avoid crashing into any innocent bystanders.

The stairs are a huge pain, but regardless we thunder down them flight by flight, occasionally catching a glimpse of a Jaeger through the tangle of beams and hanging walkways. And then we are out. Lizzy turns off the stairs and we follow her into the most massive, amazing place I've ever seen. The dock.

We walk out on a path that encircles the control room where it folds out of the main wall. Above us, catwalks and endless machinery climb up to the massive ceiling. Below us, the same climbs down the impossibly high wall, all the way down to the floor, some hundred meters below us. And around us? Jaegers. Six jaegers; a class one, two class twos, a class three, a class four and a class five. Our Jaeger.

I laugh at the sight. It seems so impossible, to be this close to these massive machines. Which is odd, considering they're the reason I'm here. I stare out at the massive space surrounding us, and look through the grate floor below us, trying to comprehend the scale of this place. However, it doesn't take long before my eyes move to the class five Jaeger. Her design is very sleek and angular; the cockpit (head) sits low and sharp looking lift stabilizers jut out the back. She has the best handling and most advanced weapons systems of all the commissioned jaegers. I want her more than ever.

Lizzy and I share a few hurried glances; caught between sharing the moment and not wanting to miss one detail.

'Well, I think the jetlag was worth it, don't you?' Lizzy says laughingly.

'Nothing like a weapon of mass destruction to make a girl happy.' I agree.

'Oh yeah, diamonds are boring, I want a Jaeger.'

'Something budget friendly.' I offer.

'Exactly.'

The rest of the cadets soon find their way to us. Half chat excitedly, squashing into the narrow walkway, and the other half just take it all in, smiling absently at our surroundings. It's not too long before the general joins us. He clears his throat.

'Now, you lot are only gonna get this tour once, so I recommend that you pay close attention. Today I'm going to show you where your loading bay is and how everything works. Seeing as you're all from various counties the protocol, though mostly constant, can differ in some small ways. As you all know, it is the details that count in places like this.' He says. I clutch at Lizzys arm and we both look at the Jaeger.

'But, first, of course, I'll introduce you to your Jaeger. Now, follow me. There isn't enough goddamn room to breathe here.' He says, before wading through the cadets and leading us further along and up to a larger platform, where we have far more space, and it's apparently far easier to breathe. There's nobody up here except us, and I can guess at why.

There's no hand rail.

'Now,' the General starts, standing about a foot from the edge of the platform. 'In front of you is a class five Jaeger. She's new, clean, smooth running, and we recently updated her software. She is currently the most advanced Jaeger on the planet; ultra light, strong and fast. She's called Thurian.'

The General proceeds to talk a little more about Thurian. About how there were only ever two class five jaegers, and her sister is stuck on a beach in Micronesia; so rusted and pillaged that Thunder Dragon is far beyond any form of salvage. Thurian is one of a kind.

We move to the loading bay and General Mathews explains all the protocol for Kaiju alert action, gear in the bay and the gear that we are responsible for. Some people aren't really listening on account of being so close to Thurian, but we all get pulled back down to Earth when Mathews stresses that if in the practice runs later anyone puts so much as a toe out of line we'll never see a Jaeger ever again.

I swear if someone asked me what the general said, I could give them a transcript without so much as a comma out of place.


	8. Chapter 8

I watch the numbers on my watch change from forty three to forty four from where it's strapped to the pipe on the wall. I've been lying in bed doing nothing for over an hour now. I had my door open for a while so I could listen to the radio someone had working outside, but I shut my door once the news headlines were over. I always listen to the headlines but I don't want the details, given that it's usually bad news. The only notable piece of news was that the Kaiju proof wall has a new date for completion about six months from now; seven years late.

I sigh and start putting my boots back on. I need to do something. Lizzy is off with Andrew (probably canoodling) and I haven't seen Dean or Koemi since training, so I'm on my own for now. I look over the map and see that there's two gyms in the complex; the only recreation areas aside from dining halls. I decide to go looking for the smaller one that's furthest away. That way I'll waste even more time trying to find it.

I kick the door shut behind me and set off down the corridor. There are few people around; its midday so the day shift are working or eating and the night shift are asleep. If Lizzy and I become pilots we won't be part of either shift. Instead we'll be on call; ready for any and everything twenty four hours a day, along with certain people like the general, and all the people who manage The Drop. Just another way that pilots are separate from the all the other people on this base.

Pilots used to be like rock stars; when they started taking out kaiju and seemingly putting the odds back in our favour they were all over the media. News, current affairs, chat shows-they even made appearances as celebrity guests. They all had egos to match the size of their Jaegers, too. But when the Kaiju attacks became more destructive and we started losing jaegers, the blame fell on those most public and closest associated to the jaegers: the pilots. Now people swayed the governments of the world to investing in the wall. The Jaeger program has barley any support, that's why our only remaining Jaegers are here; its cheaper.

_And yet the way pilots are seen never had anything to do with my choice to become one._ I think to myself as I wander through hallways with their rust stained walls and occasional signs saying where things are, in both English and Mandarin.

The door to the gym is stiff and squeaks on its rusty hinges. Inside I discover why it seems like no one ever comes here. There's very little in the way of equipment in here: two spin bikes, two treadmills and a rowing machine, off of which look severely neglected. There's a bench and bars along one of the walls, and weights spread chaotically across the bench. I imagine that they were once in a pile; however there's no one who cares enough to put them back.

I notice another door on the other side of the dimly lit room which sparks my curiosity. When I reach it I can hear an irregular thudding sound. Probably machinery. I decide to take a look.

The room is filled with punching bags and a large area is dedicated to sparring mats. It's much brighter in here too. I realize what I thought was a mechanical thudding has stopped, and has been replaced by heavy breathing. A face pops out from behind one of the punching bags. Oh god.

Becket.

He looks like he's been here for hours. His singlet top is damp, his honey coloured hair plastered to his forehead and his red face is shiny as a diamond. _Concentrate, Eloise._ _No, not on the muscles; on his face. Guh. _

'Fancy seeing you here, Carroll.' He says, pushing his hair back from his face.

'Hi Becket.' I say awkwardly. Shit. I fall into a lean on the doorframe. He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest at my response. 'Why is my being here fancy?' I ask quickly.

'Well, I come down here when I want to be alone.' He shrugs.

Okay, I'm not wanted here. Got it. 'Right. Sorry.' I say and begin to turn.

'No wait! That's not what I meant.' He stops me. 'I meant to say, well, this place is practically abandoned. Occasionally someone new on the base will poke their head into the first room, but nobody ever comes in here except me.'

I begin to walk down the room, making myself look away from Becket. 'That's not surprising. It's so far from the dorms and the dining hall, and there's a bigger gym over that way.'

'Not to mention the condition of this one. Why are you here?'

'I was bored, it looked abandoned, and it was far away. I had time to kill.'

'That makes two of us.'

'How so?'

'I have way too much time on my hands.'

'Why? I mean, you're a pilot, surely you'd be busy...'

'I don't have a partner yet.' _Right. _He stands for a moment before uncrossing his arms and speaking. 'Listen, I'm sorry about what I said to you back in the dining hall. It was rude and stupid-'

'And true.'

'It was none of my business.'

'Yeah, it wasn't, but I kind of needed someone to say it. It's okay, I was cross then, but you were right.'

We look each other in the face but it doesn't take long before my eyes flick to the floor. A question occurs to me. He doesn't have a partner, and he's spending all his time in a deserted gym with nothing to keep him company but half a dozen punching bags. I mean, I was never really a people person, but this is pretty sad even going by my standards.

'When was the last time you sparred with someone?' I venture. Becket furrows his brow.

'Ooh, I dunno. Maybe... six months ago?'

'Six months!? That's just pathetic.'

'What, you want to spar with me?' He asks doubtfully.

'Yeah. If nothing else, for your own good.' I confirm.

'Uh, okay, sure. But I'm a lot better than your average cadet, Carroll.' He warns me seriously.

I kick off my boots and socks and toss them into a corner. 'Well then it's a good thing I'm not your average cadet.' I step onto the mat. 'Come on then.' He looks reluctantly at the mat. 'Oh, don't worry, I'll go easy on you.' I say sweetly. That does it. He's on the mat before you could say 'pansycake'.

Instinctively I analyse the differences between us. He's taller, and stronger, but maybe slower. And the last time he practiced with something that hits back was half a year ago. He raises his hands in closed fists where mine are open and flexible. He has more of a boxer's stance than me; tighter; tense to spring at any moment, where I know I'm a lot looser and free to change my position.

'You ready?' He asks.

'As I'll ever be.' I reply. We begin.

It takes a long time for him to get back into the swing of things. I end up putting Becket on the floor about ten times using the same movement before he finally evades. But once he's in the swing of things I have to keep checking myself so he doesn't catch me off guard. His skill level seems to keep going up, until I'm working my butt off just defending.

'Geez Becket, took you long enough to ramp it up.' I pant.

'Maybe I was just going easy on you.' He counters, equally out of breath. Neither of us drops our guard for even a second.

'Or maybe that's what I was doing.' I say as we circle slowly around on the mat. Becket lets out a breathy laugh. I think it's the first time I've seen him smile, and it's infectious. I grin back at him.

The moment only lasts for a second, however. He attacks and we fall back into silence. After a bit of give and take Becket drops a hand and I immediately send my foot at high velocity towards the side of his face. What should happen is he either barely blocks it or he gets to listen to the sound of my foot hitting his face. Instead, by some means he catches it and _somehow_ I'm on the floor with Becket on top of me. I try to break out but he wrestles me into a ball where I can barley breathe, let alone move my arms or legs.

He doesn't immediately let me out like I expect him to. He sort of just stays there, leaving me stuck beneath him.

'Um, Becket, can you let me move?' I wheeze out. I can't hear him laugh, but I feel it as a shudder coming through his chest where it presses down on my side.

'Sure I can.' He doesn't move. I roll my eyes.

'Yes, but _will_ you let me move?'

'But I'm winning.'

'And I can't breathe.' I point out with my knee pressing uncomfortably into my jaw. I feel him laugh again as he moves, without letting me do the same, so that he's straddling my hips and is holding my wrists so I can't move my arms. Then he holds both my wrists with one hand; one in his grip and the other caught between his arm and the crook of his shoulder. With his free hand he gently traces under the edge of my bandage with his thumb. I don't know why I don't protest. If it was anyone else I would have told them to get their hands off me. Or flattened their nose into their face. But not this time. Not with him.

'How did he manage to hit you there at all?' He asks quietly. Then he lets me go. I roll out from under him and start brushing myself off.

'I should go.' I say after clearing my throat. Becket looks bewildered.

'I thought you had time to kill.'

'No. Yes. Well, I did, but I just remembered that I need to tell Lizzy something.' I lie. He knows. Becket looks at me deliberately.

'And it can't wait until you see her next?' He's still standing in the ring while I'm carelessly shoving my boots back on.

'Not really. I mean, I should have told her before.' He doesn't respond. Once I have my boots on I head for the door, uncomfortably brushing my hair back from my face. 'This was fun.'

'Carroll-'

'I'll see you around.' I interject and push through the door, leaving Becket behind without a chance to reply.


	9. Chapter 9

'Okay, I've had enough of that thing.' Lizzy says.

We're using our free afternoon to train with each other. In the morning we quizzed each other on the basic controls of the other classes of Jaeger. Every pilot must be able to take up another class in an absolute emergency.

Lizzy is pointing at my head, or rather, the bandage on my head. The thing's starting to get a bit gross after four days of sweaty training and tryouts. And sparring with Becket, whose face is still popping into my head.

'You're sick of it? Imagine how I feel.' I say. For the past hour while I've been sweating (more) as I spar with Lizzy, the bandage has gotten itchier and itchier.

'Excellent.' Lizzy says. She drops her guard, walks over to me and yanks the bandage off my head.

'Oi! I'm supposed to keep it on for a week!'

'So it wasn't annoying the hell out of us both? Come on Ellie, your head's gonna be fine.'

'Four days is not a week.' I say as she chucks the bandage onto the floor of my room. I run my fingertips over the stitches and decide they won't split. Then I put my hands up and we start to spar again. We're not exactly nice to each other, and when we hit, we hit hard. But because we're both skilled equally we don't get hit much.

'Eloise!'Someone calls from behind me.

I break away from the fight and say, 'time out' to Lizzy. If either of us forgets to do this we have an agreement that we can hit each other as much as we like, ready or not. Now I turn and see Koemi .

'Hi.' I say. I wonder why she's here.

'The officials thought you would want to know that Silvan's punishment has been assigned.' She says.

I wipe some of the sweat off my brow and Lizzy give an interested 'ooh'. The other cadets scattered around the hallway are listening in. 'Go on.'

'He is suspended from any and all possible duties as a Jaeger pilot for two years, and has been suspended from training for the next month. They're only keeping him on base because it's too expensive to send him back to Switzerland.' Koemi says happily. Someone whoops and the few other people in the hallway clap. I smile.

Koemi grins back at me, before saying that she needs to spread the news and practically skips away.

'She's adorable.' Lizzy says to me.

'Oh, that's all we're taking out of this conversation.' I say sarcastically, and raise my hands again.

'Yes, well, I suppose we ought to celebrate. Booze?'

'Strictly forbidden.' I remind her. Yesterday on the way back from the gym I saw an engineer get pulled out of their room with bottles rolling along the corridor at his feet. Two officers ransacked the room and from what I heard at dinner, he was chucked out onto the street with his bottles smashing on the tarmac after him. Oh god, if she brought anything here...

'Yeah, well,' she leans in and whispers in my ear, 'They didn't catch me in Melbourne.'

'If you had been caught,' I start, stepping back. 'They'd have carried you out of the base in a friggin' body bag.' I didn't know she'd had booze in Melbourne. That scares me; that she would have thrown away our chance to do something important, something we'd been training hard for and that mattered so much to us, in favour of a bottle of vodka.

'Again, I didn't get caught back at the Melbourne base.' She says casually. 'And I haven't been caught here either.'

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. What the hell is she saying? I hope I'm wrong, I really hope I'm wrong. I tense up.

'I thought you knew about that.' She says innocently, seeing my reaction. I stare dumbfounded at her for a moment. Then I stride into her room and start throwing her few possessions across the space.

'What the hell are you doing?!' Lizzy screeches at me. 'Get off!' She tries to stop me from flipping up her mattress but I throw her off, the adrenalin and clenching rage forcing my muscles to overreact with terrible strength and precision. I don't even glance at Lizzy when I hear her cry out as her body thumps against the hard floor. Underneath the mattress, against the wall are three bottles of colourful spirits.

I stare at them for a moment. Thinking about what they mean. It's too much. I stumble back from the bed, and walk unsteadily from the room.

She had booze. Here. Under her mattress. She must have been sleeping on them since we arrived. Sleeping on pretty little weapons of mass destruction. She doesn't understand. She knows the chances of her being caught, and she knows what will happen if she is, but she hasn't thought; thought about what will happen if she is caught.

Two options, both terrible, both unthinkable. She would be kicked off the base and I would go with her, because she's the only family I've got- the only person left that I trust. But I'd never be a Jaeger pilot, and neither of us would never have that chance again. Or, I could stay behind and Pilot the Jaeger with someone else. That is, if there was someone else that I was drift compatible with.

Leave her to fend for herself, not knowing if she was dead or alive, while I lost what little care for myself I had in me. I'm half empty now, and the only things keeping me from slipping are Lizzy and the chance at a Jaeger. So if she's kicked of the base, no matter what I choose to do, I don't think I'll be able to take it. Those bottles, not that she's thought about it, could take away the precious few important things I have left.

I don't know what would happen to her. Maybe she'd go down the same destructive path as me, but I don't think so. Lizzy would carry on, do something else. She's not as damaged as I am. She would plaster a smile on her face but she wouldn't have the same drive to do something like this. She always used to float her way through school, happily failing her least favourite subjects and acing everything else. Training together was something she invested in, and I'm not sure if she'd ever find something to invest in again. She never did fail gracefully.

I let out a sigh when I walk from the room. The door was open. I don't know how much the stragglers in the hallway heard or saw, but apparently it was enough. They look at me with varying expressions on their faces. Intrigue, sympathy, contempt, austerity. I choose to ignore them.

I unlock my door, and as I close it behind myself I see Becket, leaning against his doorframe, watching me retreat into my room with his stupid blue eyes infuriatingly sympathetic. In my room I punch the wall hard, spraining my hand and splitting two knuckles, before collapsing onto my bed. I wait hours for tears that don't come, even though I want them to. I just lie there, thinking everything and nothing at once; an occurrence that not many people are as familiar with as me.

And it's lying there, working the kinks out of my injured hand, that I hear the alarm sound.

* * *

Hello! So I don't normally put in authors notes but I just wanted to say THANKYOU to everyone who has read this far. thank`you so much, this is kinda my baby and it means so much to me when I see how many visits I have; it's crazy. I never thought of this as something I would publish, but i'm glad I did. also, I'd really like some reviews, so if you have the time it would be much appreciated.

Thankyou lovlies!

Amelia.


	10. Chapter 10

A head splittingly loud alarm suddenly explodes into life. I have no clue where it's coming from, but I immediately know what it means. General Mathews explained its significance the day we met Thurian. I've heard it too many times.

This is a Kaiju alert, and we are under attack.

I release my cramped muscles and uncurl myself from the position I've been lying in since I tore apart Lizzys room, before standing up, throwing on my jacket and leaving my room. I stand at attention outside my door, as per the protocol, wiping my sore eyes and swallowing the massive lump in my throat.

Out here the alarm is even louder. So loud I can feel it reverberating in my chest as I slump against the doorway. I don't put my hands over my ears, like I can see some people doing; just let the sound wash over me. Across from me stands Becket, looking far more alert and ready for whatever the announcement tells us to do next than I feel. He's wearing a t-shirt the colour of red wine, and his exposed arms have very symmetrical, almost artificial looking scars running in sooth lines down them. When I look back up to his face he's looking at me. I quickly shift my gaze over to Lizzy, before resigning to looking at the floor. Is there anyone here I can share a glance with without being uncomfortable?

The alarm turns into one long tone and then the voice of the General comes over the loudspeaker.

'This is a code blue, I repeat, this is a code blue. All base to alert level six. Category 4 incoming.' He booms out. Mechanics, engineers and officers begin to move through our hallway, and we wait to see if any of us cadets need to do anything. Code blue means that a Kaiju has just come out from the Breech, and a Jaeger will be sent to meet it and destroy it. Now the General calls the name of the Jaeger for the pilots that need to report to the loading bay.

'Crimson Typhoon report to load.' He says. He should be finished, but he keeps talking. 'Also, Thurian, report to load. E. Stohl and E. Carroll report to pilot. I repeat. Crimson Typhoon and Thurian report to load. E. Stohl and E. Carroll report to pilot. _Scientists please report to command level._ All inactive staff: move to appropriate safe zones effective immediately. Over and out.' He says. The loudspeaker turns off with a crackle, and the alarms resume, but not as loudly this time.

Shit. We're up. Shit. No time to think. No time to process. I bite down on my lip and make myself focus. I've known what to do for years. Now it's time to do it.

I pull my jacket off and chuck it into my room, before throwing the door shut. I start towards the lifts. When Lizzy steps past me I don't say anything, just follow her. We take the lift down with the three Crimson Typhoon pilots and run down the stairs. It seems to take forever and yet I'm there before I know it. Crimson Typhoon split off from us and disappear into their loading bay. Lizzy and I keep running.

It's a massive rush to get our gear on in the prep area, but every move I make is quick and efficient. I've done this a thousand times before; a thousand runs to the loading area, a thousand simulated attacks and a thousand dress rehearsals of a thousand other things. I don't wonder about why Lizzy and I have to go in with Crimson Typhoon, because I know they'll tell us. I'm so certain of what I'm doing that I need to make sure I'm still alert and focused.

Soon I have my drive suit on; it doesn't fit properly, but then again it wasn't made for me. None of my suits ever were, actually. As I'm adjusting it as much as I can to fit Lizzy taps my shoulder.

'Ellie, I-'

'Not now. We'll sort it out later, but you know that we can't afford to do that now. Just stay focused.' I remind her. When I turn around I notice how red her eyes are. I flex my injured hand and put my helmet on; all the while reminding myself that I cannot under any circumstances let my emotions cloud my judgement. 'Let's go. The launch is in 120, we don't want to be late.'

We clamber down into Thurian's cockpit, locking our boots into the rig and strapping ourselves in. Lizzy takes the left side and I take the right. I take a moment to collect myself again before calling in to Command.

'Check to Command, this is Thurian, over.' I begin. Lizzy beside me is furiously working the start-up procedure, her hands flying all over the holographic screen in front of us.

'Check to Thurian, this is Command, reading you loud and clear. Please relay your current status, over.' The voice comes over our intercom too loud. I quickly adjust the volume and Lizzy signals that she's done.

'Roger Command. We're all strapped in and start-up is complete. All systems at full capacity, fuel cells at 100 percent and coms are clear, over.'

'Excellent.' Says someone else. That's unusual. 'Thurian this is General Mathews. Your brief for this evening is simple. The kaiju, codename Otachi, currently poses no major threat, in your case we are treating this as a test run. You are not to engage under any circumstances. Your job is to sit and watch. Once Otachi is dealt with you'll have some room for getting a feel for how your Jaeger moves, then it'll be straight home, over.'

'Understood sir. Do not engage, and await your permission to begin trial run once Otachi is good and dead, over.'

'Alright, I'm handing you back over to command to begin the Drift. Good luck Thurian.

'Thank you sir.'

'Command to Thurian, begging neural handshake on your mark. Over.'

I look to Lizzy to see if she's ready. We do not want to get caught in the drift, which means absolute focus. I'm relieved to see that Lizzy is giving me the same assessment. We nod and turn back to our displays.

'Roger that Command, we are ready to initiate Drift sequence. Begin neural handshake at your discretion.' I shift in my suit and close my eyes, letting the rig support my weight. My mind doesn't go blank, but it moves into a strange, different kind of focus. Not concentrating on anything, instead letting every thought pass by. This is my first Drift and I do not want to get stuck.

It starts. There are flashes - memories. Both mine and Lizzys, some of which we share. They start of as neutral feelings; vague impressions. _A blue basketball bouncing onto the road. One of Lizzys old drawings. A Jet Ski churning up the water just off St. Kilda beach_. Then there's more significance. _The day my brothers were born, our favourite tree getting one of its best branches chopped off, a boy who gave Lizzy a flower after she sang at assembly in grade two. _

And then they escalate into their final stage, until the memories are screaming at us, demanding our attention. _The day I broke my arm, Lizzys parents separating, our graduation as pilots. A kaiju shelter. _My thoughts freeze. I smell the rot and gore for an instant, and fall out of sync. I get back into the stream before we get caught, but it's a warning. _When we found each other after the Melbourne massacre, Lizzy screaming into a pillow_. It ends with a shudder and we're pulled back into reality. I shake my head to clear the images.

'Sorry.' I say to Lizzy. She knows I fell out of sync.

'Not your fault.' She says quickly. 'Let's get this started.'

I nod and open the intercom. 'Command, this is Thurian reporting a successful Drift sequence. Requesting Drop and ignition.'

'Confirmed Thurian, Drift successful. Neural Handshake maintaining a strong hold. Nice work. Drop commencing at your call.' Lizzy and I share a smile as we brace for the Drop; where the cockpit falls way down on to the body of Thurian, and we are given total control. This is it. The day we've been waiting for. I call it.

'Initiate Drop on my mark. Three. Two. One. _Mark_.'


	11. Chapter 11

**_Eloise Tyler Carroll: full simulated Drops-77 to date. Deployment Drops to date: 1.  
_**_Exert form Miss Carroll's file-last updated 0.08 seconds ago._

After the warning our tether cables are released with a muted chink, and the cables whip back to the helicopters that carried us. The cockpit jerks with the sudden impact as Thurian's feet slam onto the ocean floor. I glance at my systems display. We're waist deep in water, our choppers moving out of our field of movement.

"All clear, Thurian. Proceed five kilometres straight ahead and hold.' We're instructed.

'Copy.' I say, and I begin marching. It's strange; Lizzy and Immediately fall into the same pace, but it doesn't feel like something I've been told to do, or I've told her to do. I'm separate but in the things we do together we are completely in sync. We make the same decisions of when and how to move Thurian, but we work separately on our displays, and I work the coms autonomously.

Each step thuds and splashes far out of our earshot. We feel when one foot sinks deeper into the seafloor and the elastic tension releasing as we pull it free. Crimson Typhoon with her three arms is marching forward, maybe two K's ahead of us. An immense silhouette against the low sun and orange clouds that lie ahead. The sun's pretty bright.

'Glare might be an issue.' Lizzy and I say simultaneously. 'Shit that's so weird.' We say together again, and laugh.

'Okay, we need to stop.' I manage to say alone.

'We've reached our mark.' Lizzy tells me. I open up coms so that if anything happens I won't have to constantly push the intercom button in the middle of, say, a fight with a kaiju. I check the radar. I see the little green circle that is us, the blue triangle of Crimson Typhoon and the pulsing red light that is Otachi. It moves in a loose circuit below the surface, not yet far from the Breech itself.

I take a deep breath and exhale. 'And now we wait.' I muse quietly.

'And now we wait.' Lizzy echoes. I watch Otachi circle slowly outwards. We're facing towards it, moving closer like this we'll see it when it emerges. The red light pulses. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seve-

Just beyond Crimson Typhoon water explodes upwards, forced out of place by an immense shape. I can't see it, there's too much water in the air, but I know what it is. Warnings and alarms beep at us, and the sea mist is lit by a sickly green glow from the kaiju it surrounds.

'Otachi has surfaced. Crimson Typhoon, you are clear to engage.' The coms crackle. Crimson Typhoon runs towards the thin, snakelike kaiju and slams straight into the things midsection, two arms around its waist and the third clawing at its face. The two giants fall into the water with another massive splash, writhing in the water, churning it up.

We find ourselves bracing against the surge of water coming towards us as the titans fall into the water, Crimson initially pushing Otachi into the seabed. It isn't long before Crimson typhoon is taking heavy damage. One arm is only just connected, not a tool, just a hindrance now. Otachi rips and tears at the Jaeger with its long claws, wrapping its mouth around Crimson's head. It screams as it tries to pull Crimson back into the water, its tail coiling around Crimson's legs. Through the coms I can hear the crew inside Crimson Typhoon, grunting as they struggle.

'Assistance required, assistance required!' Someone yells from within.

'Keep at it Crimson! Cherno Alpha four Ks out, hold position.' Instructs command. _Cherno Alpha, _I think, _Russian, Class One, nothing tougher._

As soon as this is said Crimson is thrown back by Otachi, falling back into the sea. But thank god, they fall backwards and roll back onto their feet. The jaeger stabs Otachi, injuring it badly. But it's no time to be optimistic. Otachi stabs a claw into Crimson's heart. It screams again at its burns, but the damage is done; Crimson Typhoon's engine shuts off, the alternative being an explosion. For now, the Jaeger is dead. I feel my stomach churn.

'Engine shutdown, we are defenceless!' Crimson says.

'State position of Cherno Alpha.' I demand. Command crackles back to us.

'Understood Crimson. Cherno one K out, one minute tops. Thurian _hold your position._' We are ordered. I clench my jaw. Arguing won't help. But I watch Otachi slowly circling the dead jaeger, like it's savouring the kill. The pilots in Crimson Typhoon are triplet brothers. They will all die. We don't raise our weapons, but I look to Lizzy as she taps in a command.

'_Priming six shooter_.' Thurian kindly informs us. So now we have six missiles ready to fire from Thurian's chest at Otachi. Just in case.

Otachi screeches leaps into the air, about to pounce on Crimson typhoon. Except it doesn't. As it rises into the air, it's back ripples and cracks open, and spreads its wings. _Its wings?! _It latches onto crimson with every spare appendage and starts trying to tear crimson's head of, wings beating hard.

'Lizzy!' I shout.

'Got it!' She says. We brace for the kick.

'_Target engaged_.' Thurian says.

'Do not fire Thurian! Do not fire!' Command orders, but it's too late for that.

Lizzy and I give the order in unison. 'Fire.'

The Kaiju moves so the missiles don't find don't find its abdomen. That's okay though, because they do find its wing, ripping holes in the surface and lodging into Otachi's shoulder. Otachi tries to keep flapping, but the injured wing is too damaged. Instead of flying up it awkwardly hurls itself to one side, scrambling frantically to keep a grip on Crimson.

'Yes!' We shout. It would be a perfect moment for a high five, unfortunately doing so would case Thurian to try and twist into an impossible shape and collapse on herself. So we just laugh.

'Thurian! You disobeyed a direct order!' Command snaps. We force ourselves to stop laughing.

'Yes we did and we accept full responsibility.' I say. While shooting at Otachi delayed its attack, Otachi is still clambering over Crimson, claws ripping into her. We've delayed the inevitable.

'Where is Cherno Alpha?' I demand.

'On your left.' One pilot tells us with a thick Russian accent. We look and see Cherno Alpha disengaging her transport, and crashing down into the sea a few hundred meters in front of us, marching out to meet Otachi. Cherno smashes her fists together, making a huge noise, drawing the Kaiju's attention to her.

'You won't get there fast enough.' I tell them, and it's true. Otachi is recovering quickly, and Cherno, while tough and strong, is the slowest jaeger at the base by far.

'You're right, we won't.' They say.

'Unless…'

'Thurian, no.' this time it's general Mathews. 'You _will not _violate your orders. You are not to engage.'

'With all due respect, sir,' Cherno starts. 'Without Thurian's help Crimson typhoon is done for.'

'No. Cherno keep marching.' The general instructs. The six shooter is still primed and we do not disengage. But we know that we cannot fire.

Otachi stopped briefly to watch Cherno coming, but now it turns back to Crimson Typhoon, its long spine rippling in anticipation. It rips another arm from Crimson. When your jaeger loses a limb it hurts. You feel its pain, in a way, because you are part of it. So the pilot in control of that part of the jaeger has just had his arm ripped off. And that does it for me. Cherno is almost close enough to attack, but in this case _almost_ just won't cut it.

'Thurian?' Cherno Alpha asks, as if they even needed to.

We fire again. The missile find their mark and the Kaiju finally let's go of Crimson Typhoon, screaming as it writhes in the water. And no, it doesn't stay down long, but now Cherno is there. Cherno grabs Otachi's wriggling neck with one hand, and punches its head with the other, until its skull caves in and it finally, _finally_, dies.


End file.
